


Hairpins & Old Lace

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: On the day of her wedding, Rukia thinks about things new and old, blue and borrowed.





	Hairpins & Old Lace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [deathberryprompts](http://deathberryprompts.tumblr.com). The prompts were 'old' and 'new'.

It’s funny, Rukia thinks, the sorts of things that stick in your mind. She remembers, quite clearly, the first time she heard the phrase, and it bubbles up now again, as she’s sitting still as a statue while a Kuchiki house-maid pins her hair up. 

It was before – well, it was back nearly at the beginning, when she’d still been pretending to be a vapid school girl and trying to blend in with the ravenous pack of girls in Ichigo’s class. A lunchtime conversation turned, as they often do when being had by a pack of (ostensibly) fifteen year-old girls, to the subject of weddings. 

It had been Inoue who’d sing-songed the phrase to the rest of the group, and Rukia still remembers the cadence of her voice and the way the other girls had all been able to come up with objects for each of the parts of the rhyme. Rukia had demurred at the time, but she’d gone home to Ichigo’s closet that evening, thinking about what she might choose, if given the opportunity. 

A hairpin shoved roughly into the updo derails Rukia from her musings. The maid winces and wrings her hands, but Rukia bids her to continue. More hairpins are pushed through the updo and Rukia’s thoughts turn again to the schoolyard rhyme. 

Her something old is easy - Byakuya had presented her with a necklace that belonged to Hisana the night before, and it’s spill of silver and sapphires is a perfect addition to her otherwise unadorned neck. Her something blue was also easy, as Inoue had had a set of lookalike hairpins made for Rukia as part of her and Ishida’s wedding gift. 

The something borrowed was trickier, but it had been Ichigo’s father who had solved that dilemma. He’d arrived at the dinner the night before with Masaki’s veil and quietly requested that she wear it, but not keep it. There remained only the something new - which was both easy and hard, as everything she was wearing, aside from the veil and the necklace, were new to her, but somehow, Rukia didn’t think that was what was meant by the rhyme. 

The maid, finished with her hair, taps Rukia gently on the shoulder before stepping back. Rukia turns her head back and forth, trying to catch a glimpse of her hair in the mirror.  The gentle breeze outside stirs the curtains at the window, and it ghosts across the nape of her neck, almost like the phantom press of Ichigo’s mouth, and Rukia shivers. 

“It’s lovely, thank you,” Rukia murmurs, and the maid dips her head and disappears into the back of the room. Rukia turns on her stool so she can look outside and her gaze falls to her left hand, and the only other piece of jewellery she is wearing. 

It’s a simple ring, nothing ostentatious, but both she and Ichigo had agreed that there were better things to spend their money on. She turns the band on her finger, feeling the smooth slide of it against her skin. It’s still unfamiliar, and will remain so, as she doesn’t wear it (and won’t - rings and swords never mix), but she likes the way the single diamond catches the sunlight at it’s core. It reminds her of the way Ichigo’s eyes light before he pulls  _Zangetsu_  over his shoulder - heat and fire and determination. 

This then, is her something new - this ring, and what it represents and the future it initiated when Ichigo gave it to her one morning while they lay sprawled in his bed, the sun stealing over the horizon outside his window. Rukia smiles down at her hand, and then stands, shifting the layers of kimono around her as she does. 

There’s a tap on the door and Byakuya steps in. He doesn’t speak, just waits for Rukia to make her way across the room to him, and to take his arm when he offers it.

“I’m ready,” Rukia says, and together, they make their way down an empty corridor towards the courtyard where the rest of Rukia’s life can begin.


End file.
